


you'll hopefully go back to seeming weird to me

by emjee (MerryHeart)



Series: life is a gradual series of revelations [1]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: 'just once to get it out of our systems', Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 18:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29122911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MerryHeart/pseuds/emjee
Summary: In which Yusuf and Nicolò explore the classic excuse of "just once, to get it out of our systems."
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: life is a gradual series of revelations [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141256
Comments: 66
Kudos: 512





	you'll hopefully go back to seeming weird to me

**Author's Note:**

> I owe the entirety of this fic to the song ["Let's Have Intercourse"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z5Ex9gyOmp0) from _Crazy Ex-Girlfriend_. Title and epigraph are from the same.

_"I won't be back to normal 'til I see what your nipples look like."_

Yusuf sighs and rolls over for what feels like the hundredth time that night.

“I don’t suppose you’re going to be quiet and go to sleep any time soon.” Nicolò is stretched out at the opposite end of the tent, and apparently not any more asleep than Yusuf is.

They’ve been traveling together for several months, which, incidentally, is also how long they’ve gone without killing each other. Throwing away the strange companionship born of their mutual—blessing? affliction?—seemed foolish, hence the traveling and the shared tent, but that doesn’t mean they’re friends.

Nicolò is a cranky bastard, no way around it, although Yusuf suspects some of that is the result of Nicolò coming to terms with the horrors he’d been part of. He doesn’t involve Yusuf in that reckoning, which is fine by Yusuf; he has enough problems of his own without this strange man adding to the pile. Although, recently, Yusuf has started to wonder if there’s at least one problem (besides the unsettling inability to stay dead) that they share.

Yusuf notices the way Nicolò looks at him, sometimes—the man’s not nearly as subtle as he thinks he is. And Yusuf—God help him—Yusuf looks at him right back, except, he hopes, with more stealth.

Nicolò is frustratingly attractive. Yusuf hates admitting it, but it’s the truth. Even those unsettling eyes draw him in. He desperately wants to know what the man’s upper arms feel like, which is frankly embarrassing.

And yet. He’s having shit luck sleeping, and he has reason to suspect that Nicolò’s not… _un_ interested.

It’s been such a weird fucking year, he thinks. This might as well happen.

“You know what might help me sleep,” he says, before he can change his mind. Nicolò makes a vaguely inquisitive noise. “We could have sex.”

He hears a rustle of blankets as Nicolò sits straight up and fumbles for one of the oil lamps. A few moments later a flame is flaring to life, illuminating Nicolò’s incredulous face.

“Are you serious?”

Yusuf shrugs. “Why not? We both have energy to work off, and I imagine it’s been quite some time for both of us. We don’t have to, of course. But we could. I’ve seen you looking. You’re very bad at hiding it.”

Nicolò snorts. “Who says I was trying to hide it? Took you long enough to notice.”

Now it’s Yusuf’s turn to sit up—slightly too fast, as it happens. He’s blinking away spots of light as he says, “You did that on _purpose_?”

“I didn’t know how to pose the question.”

“So you’ve wanted to—for how long?”

“Don’t go reading into it,” Nicolò insists. “You’re a very handsome man, you must know this.”

“You’re a very strange man,” Yusuf shoots back. “You must know this.”

“Yes, yes. Do you still want to fuck, or no?”

Fucking seems a bit involved, Yusuf thinks, and says so.

“Alright,” Nicolò says. “Mouths, then?”

“If you want,” Yusuf agrees. “As long as you’re naked.”

Nicolò looks him right in the eyes and pulls his shirt over his head, exposing shoulders that are so broad that Yusuf is a little angry about it.

“We’re not going to get very far if you stay over there,” he says, letting a bit of snap come through in his tone. He really wants to get off with this man, but he doesn’t have to be happy about it.

Nicolò sighs as though he’s the most put-open man alive instead of a man who’s facing an eminent orgasm courtesy of Yusuf’s mouth ( _You’re welcome in advance_ , Yusuf thinks, because he knows his skill set), but he leaves the warmth of his own bedroll for Yusuf’s.

“You next,” Nicolò says, gesturing to Yusuf’s shirt. Yusuf obliges, and emerges from his disrobing to find Nicolò’s gaze raking up and down his body.

“Like what you see?”

“Mm.” Nicolò leans forward and drags his tongue across one of Yusuf’s nipples. Yusuf’s too stunned to do anything except make some kind of inarticulate noise of surprise. “Maybe I’ll be able to stop thinking about doing that, now.”

“Been thinking of me?” Yusuf asks, mostly to hear Nicolò admit it again.

“Constantly,” Nicolò says, tucking his face against Yusuf’s neck, which…knocks the breath out of Yusuf’s lungs, a little. He wasn’t expecting Nicolò to confess to it so openly. “The things I’ve imagined doing to your body, all the ways I could make you scream with pleasure…”

“What do they teach priests at their schools?”

“Ha. The better question is what the students teach each other.”

“Look at me.” Nicolò sits back, looks at Yusuf with those odd pale eyes. “We’re only doing this once, you understand.”

Nicolò makes a face. “Of course I understand. To get through it.”

“Like a fever.”

“Exactly.”

“Just making sure we both understand.”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

“Fine.”

“So.” They stare each other for a moment that lasts slightly too long. Right as Yusuf opens his mouth to say, “Are you going to get on with it, then?” Nicolò makes an impatient noise and pushes Yusuf onto his back.

“Do you kiss?” Nicolò asks.

“Ah—you can kiss me, I suppose.”

And then Nicolò is on top of him, mouth open against his, and fuck, Yusuf thinks he’s had this dream at least once. His body certainly remembers; he’s hard in almost no time at all. He manages to get his hands on Nicolò’s upper arms and—God, they’re very good arms; it’s absolutely not fair. After a while Nicolò begins to work down his body with a series of biting kisses that have Yusuf trying very hard to stay quiet.

“If this is going to be a competition over who can make less noise,” Nicolò says, mouth so close to Yusuf’s cock that Yusuf can feel his breath, “I can assure you that you’ll lose.”

“I don’t believe—you.” He forces himself to finish the sentence as Nicolò draws Yusuf’s cock into his mouth. Yusuf bites back a string of _fuck_ and _yes_ and _Nicol_ _ò_ because under no circumstances will he be saying this man’s name in this situation, and if he can make it to the other side of his orgasm he won’t have to worry about it anymore, because this won’t be happening— “Again,” he breathes, as Nicolò hollows his cheeks and takes Yusuf so deep Yusuf can feel the back of Nicolò’s throat. Nicolò pulls almost all the way off and then swallows Yusuf down again, and Yusuf’s biting his fist, he can feel Nicolò’s fingers digging into his thigh, the man sucks cock like he was born for it—

A noise escapes Yusuf’s throat without his permission as he comes. At first he hopes Nicolò is too preoccupied with swallowing Yusuf’s spend to notice, but the smug expression on his face when he looks up from between Yusuf’s legs puts that hope to rest.

Well. Obviously he’s going to have to give this man the cocksucking of a lifetime to balance the ledger that is this surreal and sleep-deprived interaction. Nicolò doesn’t need to _know_ that, of course, because then Yusuf would have to admit that he had just _received_ the cocksucking of a lifetime.

They switch places and Yusuf kisses Nicolò, slow and thorough, because he’s not giving Nicolò the chance to claim that Yusuf does anything less than give as good as he gets. He sucks Nicolò off with determination and no small amount of enjoyment, although Nicolò has an infuriating amount of self-control when it comes to the noises he makes, and comes in Yusuf’s mouth with only the barest suggestion of a sigh. When Yusuf sits up, he notices that Nicolò’s hand is buried in his own hair, fingers still twisted in the strands, and feels a bit disappointed that Nicolò hadn’t put that hand in his curls instead.

Once he has his breath back, Nicolò hauls himself upright, and Yusuf allows himself one last long look at Nicolò’s body. Almost before he knows what’s happening, Nicolò is thanking him and handing him his shirt.

“You’re welcome.” He pulls the shirt over his head. “And thank you, too.”

“Now we won’t have to worry about it anymore,” Nicolò says, moving back to his own bedroll and donning his own shirt again.

“Indeed. We can focus on other problems.”

“And maybe you can finally go to sleep.”

Oh, That’s right. That’s how this started. “Yes. Put out the lamp?”

Nicolò does, and Yusuf listens to the sounds of him settling back in under his own blankets. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Yusuf hardly sleeps, which is how he knows that Nicolò tosses and turns all night.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on the comments or on tumblr (where I am also @emjee)


End file.
